A Strange Manor of Death (The Inspector Felix Mysteries Book 3)

by R. A. Bentley

  'What about me?' pouted Joan.

  'You know where the sideboard is, dear.'

  Chapter Four

  Bernard suddenly slapped his brow. 'You are married to an idiot,' he said.

  'Why is that, darling?'

  'Look at those pigeon holes, the pattern they make.'

  'Well, it's diamonds, I suppose.'

  'Yes, diamonds, four of them. What does that tell you?'

  Emily looked momentarily blank. 'Oh, I see — four of diamonds, like a playing card. Is that the answer, do you think?'

  'Yes, it must be. And the question is number four as well; just in case we're too stupid to "get" it. You know, I'm starting to wonder if we deserve the Manor.'

  'Well, it's possible, I suppose,' said Emily, noting it down. 'But what about the "COS Primarily"? It's all we've got as a second clue, so it must mean something. And might it not be nine of diamonds? They each have nine pigeon-holes after all.'

  'No, it's four, because there are four of them and it's question number four. I expect the "COS" means count outside.'

  'Wouldn't it be "CO," if it was that?'

  'Goodness, I don't know. It's four of diamonds, anyway — has to be.'

  'Well I think it's nine of diamonds, because of the nine holes.'

  'But they're not arranged the same! I mean, not the same as on a playing card.'

  'Of course not. They can't be, can they? Not in a diamond shape.'

  'That's why I think it's four of diamonds, because there are four of them. The holes don't count. Besides, they're circular.'

  'All right,' said Emily. But she wrote a small "9" in a corner of the page, just in case. 'They must be doing quite well,' she added. 'Egg and Charlotte, I mean, if they can afford to give away hints like that, don't you think?'

  'Youthful naivety more likely. They probably didn't realise how much it would help. Anyway we still had to tumble to it, which not everyone might.'

  'Such a pity it wasn't before you got covered in muck, darling.'

  'Yes, all right; no need to rub it in. I suppose we can assume the theme is numbers — ten rungs to the hayloft and so on. That ought to help.

  'I wonder what Roger and Vanda were doing in that car? They looked a bit shifty, I thought.'

  'Comparing notes, I expect. What's next?'

  'If you want number five, it's: "How many years a mortal man may live. Can Maggie help?"'

  Bernard made a thoughtful moue. 'Sounds biblical, doesn't it? But who is Maggie? Is there a biblical Margaret? Can't think of one. Perhaps we'll leave that for now; it'll probably need looking up.'

  'All right. The next is: "Je m'engage à vous rembourser dans les fromages. Cold comfort in that."'

  'Hmm. Another anagram. I promise to repay you in cheeses. Or in cheese, perhaps. Or even undertake to repay you in cheese. But why in French? And why only half of it?'

  'To make it harder, I suppose. Or is it some obscure idiom? You can never tell with French.'

  'Crafty, that. What language is the answer in? Do we use the French letters, if you'll pardon the expression, or the English ones?'

  Emily giggled dutifully at the "French letters." 'It's only a guess, but might it not be: I owe you cheese?'

  'That makes it harder, doesn't it? Fewer letters to play with.'

  'Well, whatever it is, it uses all the letters bar one. The second clue is, "Use the spare letter," so it might make it easier, not harder.'

  They paused in the deserted rose garden, still with a few late blooms. It was laid out as a kind of parterre with low box edging to the geometrically-shaped beds. Bounded by hedges of English yew, it was one of the many "rooms" into which the gardens were divided.

  '"How many years a mortal man may live. Can Maggie help?"' frowned Roger. 'Part of a quotation, do you suppose?'

  'It's Shakespeare,' said Vanda. 'Give me a minute.' She put a hand theatrically to her brow and demanded silence with the other. 'Don't say anything; I know this.'

  'I've nothing useful to say!'

  'It's Henry VI, Part III,' she said at last. 'What a wonderful thing is the memory!'

  'Yours is. Where does it get us?'

  'Not sure. It's quite a nice speech about wanting to be a peasant with nothing much to worry about. Maggie is Margaret of Anjou. Quite the polymath, wasn't he, your uncle? Ah, of course! "To carve out dials quaintly, point by point." That suggests a sundial, doesn't it?'

  'It certainly does! And not only that, it'll be the devil for the others to crack. Come on; I know where it is.'

  Glancing about her, Vanda grabbed his hand. 'Roger, wait!'

  'What?'

  'Embrace me.'

  'Er, all right then.'

  They stood for some minutes, oblivious to the world.

  '"I can express no kinder sign of love than this kiss"' said Vanda, applying it to his nose. 'You know, it does feel strange; almost as if the last ten years never happened.'

  Roger shook his head. 'Not for me.'

  'Poor darling. Have you been dreadfully lonely?'

  'I can't claim that. Others have come and gone, but they weren't you.'

  'Oh Roger, what a lovely thing to say!' Suddenly she drew away from him. 'Liz and Tony,' she hissed.'

  'Damn!'

  'Hello, you two,' said Tony, coming up to them. 'How are you doing?'

  'Oh, progressing, you know,' said Roger casually.

  'We've got twelve locations and ten final answers,' said Elizabeth. 'What about you?'

  'No idea,' said Roger. 'How many, Miss Beaufort-Smyth?'

  'I'd say about the same,' said Vanda, glancing at her notebook. 'Maybe a couple more. We thought we might do the three-dimensional thingies next.'

  'I'm not looking forward to those,' admitted Tony. 'I just hope they're easier than the one we were playing with. Did you manage number eight?'

  'Yes, that was easy,' said Vanda. 'What about number ten?'

  Elizabeth was bouncing impatiently. 'Can't stop to chat, I'm afraid; we've got a manor to win. Come on Tony.'

  'Yes, all right,' said Tony wearily.

  'See you later, then,' said Vanda, giving them a childish little wave.

  'Have we really done that well?' asked Roger, watching them hurry away. 'It doesn't feel like it.'

  'No, but I wasn't going to tell her that. It's going to be tight, you know. I think it's time to play dirty, don't you? No point in leaving it until the last minute.'

  Roger nodded. 'I've had some ideas in that line.'

  'So have I. But first let's look at this sundial.'

  'If there's anyone about, we'd best keep away from it,' warned Roger, 'It could be our trump card.'

  Vanda stopped again and frowned. 'Why of course!' she exclaimed. 'Oh dear, you're not going to like this.'

  'We haven't done twelve questions,' complained Tony, trailing after his wife, 'we've only done nine.'

  'I know, but I wasn't going to tell them that.'

  'They seem to be getting along all right, I thought.'

  Elizabeth didn't answer. 'This one is easy, anyway,' she said, perusing her notebook. '"Graved on the stone beneath yon aged thorn."'

  Tony sighed. 'Is that how the old fool saw himself, do you suppose? I can think of no-one less likely to "blush unseen."'

  'You're starting to sound like George. Next stop, the family tomb. It's bound to be that.'

  'Is it part of the estate?' said Tony, consulting the map. 'Yes, it seems it is. At any rate, he's extended the boundary to include it.'

  'I hope we don't have to go in.'

  'There I draw the line.'

  'IOU cheese — icehouse,' said Egg, passing over his notes. 'See? And one spare letter.'

  'Clever boy!' said Charlotte. 'Outside again then.'

  Egg reached for his stick. 'I hope it's easier to find than the Romney. Whoever would have thought it'd be a funny little drawing?'

  'Or a landscape. Perhaps it was Emma's day off.'

  'Well it had Tony and Elizabeth stumped, which is satisfying
. It'll be a sort of stone igloo, presumably.'

  'Or set into a bank. They sometimes are.'

  'I don't think it can be in the gardens, though; we know them pretty well now.'

  'Kitchen garden perhaps? It's more the sort of place for one.'

  'Where is that?'

  'Behind the Long Border. You can see it from the library window.'

  Hurrying out into the sunshine, they retraced their early-morning steps, turning through a previously unnoticed door in the border's high wall. A brick path led between a long greenhouse on one side and rows of cabbages, purple sprouting and the last of the runner beans on the other.

  'Phew! He certainly makes you run about, doesn't he?' complained Charlotte. 'I'll be a sylph at this rate.'

  'That will never do,' said Egg. 'I shall be obliged to force-feed you, like a goose.'

  'Don't you like thin women at all?' asked Charlotte. 'What about Vanda? She's so lovely, and always perfectly turned out. She makes me feel like a sack of spuds.'

  'Nonsense. You're far more attractive than Vanda,' said Egg.

  'And you are mad. Look, there it is, under those trees. Oh my goodness, the place is swarming! We'd best come back later.'

  'That was Egg and Charlotte,' growled George. 'I suppose it's a comfort to know they haven't done it yet.'

  'I don't know why they bother you so,' said Janet. 'They just like to tease.'

  'I'm not so sure. She's a clever girl, and he's not stupid either. Some sort of psychological game I shouldn't wonder — break the enemy's morale.'

  'I don't think I like her very much, to be honest,' said Emily. 'She can be a bit coarse.'

  'She can, can't she?' said Janet. 'I've noticed that myself. Clever people sometimes are, though, aren't they? I expect she's all right really.'

  'They were religious, I seem to remember,' said George. 'Very "high." She's probably reacting against it, like vicars' daughters.'

  'What nonsense,' said Janet. 'I knew three vicar's daughters and they were very genteel.'

  'That was then. Things have changed. Look at all that flapping, or whatever it is they do.'

  'I should hardly think Charlotte's a flapper, dear; she hasn't the figure for it. She's got a marvellous singing voice though.'

  'Gets a lot a practice, I expect.'

  'What about this spare letter?' said Bernard impatiently.'

  'It's an "e",' said Emily. 'And it was me that got it.'

  'I know it was you that got it, clever clogs, but what do we do with it?'

  'There's nothing out here,' said Janet. 'We should fetch the key.'

  'Yes, I suppose so. Who's going for it, then?'

  'One of you youngsters can,' said George. 'I need to sit down.'

  'I've had a thought,' said Egg. 'Two thoughts, actually. Firstly, how would it be if we work separately? We can probably do a few without help and it would save a lot of time. We can get back together for the tricky ones.'

  Charlotte was enthusiastic. 'That's a very good idea. I was going to suggest it myself. I can do the three-dimensional ones easily enough, and you're more of a words man. What's the other thought?'

  'Well, the icehouse. They were standing about outside it, which suggests they couldn't get in.'

  'Seems a bit queer, doesn't it? You'd think he'd have thought of that.'

  'It's my guess he did, and is forcing us to go for the key. If I'm right, it could provide the clue. How about if I see if I can get it?'

  Hurrying indoors, Egg sought out Nanny Matthews.

  'I'm afraid it's gone to Mr Austen, sir,' said Nanny. 'You could get it off him, or wait until he brings it back.'

  Egg was not to be discouraged. 'I wonder,' he said, 'if you could just tell me if there's anything stamped on it – numbers or letters for example – or if there's a label attached? I shouldn't want to get you into trouble of course, but I shall be able to see it for myself eventually, so it's not really cheating. I just want to save time.'

  Nanny regarded him doubtfully for a moment, then drew him into a little side-passage. 'I don't recall there being anything on the key itself, sir – it's very old, and made by the local blacksmith I shouldn't wonder – but it's got a wooden label on it, like they all have. On one side it says, "Icehouse," which is printed, and on the other side it says, "Lock when leaving," and the initials "TN," all in pencil and rather faint and dirty, as well they might be. "TN" was Thomas Norton, the Butler before Mr Fudge. Thirty years or more that's been there.'

  'Thank you, Nanny! That's exactly what I needed,' said Egg.

  'Mr Egbert,'

  'Yes, Nanny.'

  'I hope I'm not speaking out of turn, but I'd just like to congratulate you and Miss Charlotte on your engagement. We all think it's lovely, and if there's anything I can help you with, you've only to ask.' She peered out into the hallway. 'Best if I'm on my own though, sir, if you take my meaning.'

  'Nanny, you're a gem. And I'll tell Charlotte what you said.'

  The next person he encountered was Bernard.

  'You'll be wanting this,' said Bernard, handing him the key. 'Save you chasing it up.'

  'Thank you, Bernard,' said Egg. 'We owe you one.' But when he looked at the label, he found the "TN" quite gone, removed by the application of a little soil and a brisk rub.

  'Nettie, just a moment,' said Vanda. 'It is Nettie, isn't it? I know one of you is.'

  'Yes, miss, Nettie Betts,' said Nettie eagerly. 'Can I do anything for you?'

  'Well I hope so, but it's a bit delicate,' said Vanda, noting the worship in those big brown eyes. 'Is there anywhere we can talk privately, just the two of us?'

  Nettie blushed a little. 'There's number five, miss,' she said. 'No-one's got that.'

  Following the girl into the room, Vanda closed the door and leant against it. 'What it is, Nettie,' she said, keeping her voice down, 'my maid – my personal maid, that is – has had to leave without notice. It's all a bit awkward, as you can imagine. I realise you're probably perfectly happy here and all the rest of it, but I wondered if you'd be interested in the position? I won't mislead you; it's quite hard work. I'm terribly untidy and forever changing my clothes, and you'd have to clean my little flat too, but you might find it quite fun, meeting all the actors and so on. And you'd be in London for much of the time, except when we're touring, so you'd be able to get out and about a bit and see the sights. I shouldn't need you at the theatre, of course, as I've got a dresser for that, but you could always come and watch from the wings if you'd a fancy to. I can't pay you a huge amount, but I expect I can improve on what you get here. What do you think? Does it appeal?'

  By this time Nettie's hands were to her mouth, and her eyes, had they been so constructed, would undoubtedly have been out on stalks. 'Oh Miss Beaufort-Smyth,' she breathed. 'I should like that very much, but . . . oh dear, I don't know what to say, I truly don't!'

  'Would you like to think it over for a day or two,' said Vanda, mentally crossing her fingers. 'Maybe talk to your parents? There's no hurry.'

  'Oh, no,' said Nettie, with sudden decision. 'I'll accept now, miss, if I may. It's just . . . would it be all right if I was to wait until after the weekend to give notice?'

  'Yes, of course you can. In fact, I'd really rather you did. It might be a bit embarrassing if you were to do it while I'm still here. And maybe I could ask you not to mention it to anyone until then. In the meantime, I wonder if you can do one or two little things for me?'

  'Oh, Miss Beaufort-Smyth,' cried Nettie. 'Anything!'

  There's an element of risk, thought Roger grimly, but it's worth it. Shadowing his unsuspecting quarry to the library, he followed him in, crouching first behind an armchair, then some shelving, then making a dash across an open space. Occasionally the man ahead of him paused and looked around, obliging him to stand stock still, his heart thumping under his ribs. Steadily, however, he worked his way closer, until, with a blood-curdling ululation, he broke cover and charged. Alas, his intended victim had seen his reflection in the wi
ndow. Jerking round, he raised his lethal-looking weapon and loosed off a veritable fusillade of shots. 'Cah! Cah! Cah! You're dead!'

  Clutching his stomach, Roger fell heavily to the floor, rolled over, and lay still.

  'Another one bites the dust,' snarled Emmett, blowing imaginary smoke from the barrel of his pistol. 'Have you come to play with me, Uncle Roger? It's a bit boring by oneself.'

  'Maybe later old man,' said Roger, brushing himself down. 'No caps left?'

  Emmett shook his head regretfully. 'I used them all up on Auntie Joan. It's smashing fun. She shrieks and puts her hand on her chest, like this, and five minutes later she's forgotten and you can do it again.'

  'Doesn't she get cross?'

  'Yes, it's really funny.'

  'You'll do,' chuckled Roger. 'Emmett, I was wondering. If you're not too busy, would you be prepared to help me with one of those three-dimensional puzzles, since you're so good at them.'

  Emmett looked doubtful. 'I'm not sure I should. I've just done one for Mummy and Daddy, to help them win the Manor. If I were to help you as well it would cancel out. I'd like them to win because it's got the maze and things. Our house is a bit boring.'

  'Well if I were to win, you could come and play here anyway. Would half a crown help at all?'

  Roger observed with interest his nephew's callow features as conscience and cupidity fought for mastery. The result, however, was never much in doubt.

  'If it was five shillings,' said Emmett speculatively, 'I could buy a box of soldiers.'

  'I think I'd want you to do two puzzles for that,' said Roger, 'or all four of them for ten shillings. Think what you could buy with ten shillings — practically a whole army.'

  'All right,' said Emmett. 'As it's you, Uncle.'

  'Lewdly strewn tee?' suggested Egg. 'Is there a golf course?'

  'We'd best stop this before it gets out of hand,' said Charlotte severely. 'Maybe you have to think of different words for the same thing, not "newlywed's letter" but "bride's correspondence," or something of the sort.'

  'And unscramble that, do you mean? Sounds promising. Perhaps we ought to leave it for later, though. It may take some time.'